Affliction
by Nieveus
Summary: Ross feels lost, after being stood up. Rachel does her best to comfort him, but he's given up on her. Hurt and vulnerable, Ross feels like something's missing from his life. Will 'he' be there to offer it? Warnings inside A/N. Ross/Rachel. Slash. R&R!


**A/N: **_This is the first fic I've written for . Additionally, it is also my first ever _Friends_ fic. It's a day of firsts. ;D I'm kind of pleased that I can finally get something up, even if it is a little on the scrawny side. Ross is by far my favourite character, so it's aaaall from his perspective. Plan to use all the characters quite a lot though; how could I not? ;)_

_Rated M because I don't really know how shit's going to go down in later updates, and I don't want to be restricted by the rating. Lots of Ross/Rachel ship, Joey/Ross slash, hurt/comfort, pretty canon in a sense – no AU or OOC or such. Read, immerse, enjoy, whatever – review if you have the time._

_~Nieveus_

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Ross trudged along the hall absent-mindedly, his eyes wandering over the floor as he walked. Rain water trickled down his neck and through his hair, rolled down his face. His shoes were sodden and made a squelching sound as he walked. An ominous rumbling sound hung in the air. Ross lifted his head and watched as the lights all down the corridor blinked and flickered momentarily.

He walked up to his apartment door and leant into it, while turning the doorknob. He guessed Rachel would have probably fallen asleep on the couch, wrapped in a warm blanket; she disliked thunder as much as he did. Strangely, though; the door was locked. Ross pouted his mouth in thought for a second, and fumbled in his pockets for keys which he knew he didn't have, before rapping his knuckle on the door. 'R- Rachel? Rachel, could you let me in?' He called through the door. After a short moment, he heard Rachel's bare feet padding along the floor of the apartment. She unlocked the door, and welcomed Ross with a warm beam.

'He-ey, Ross,' she mused lyrically, while ushering him and removing his coat. A spicy smell meandered its way from the kitchen to his nose. 'So? How was your date?' She asked, plopping herself on the arm of the chair and crossing her legs. Ross nodded evasively, and asked if Rachel had been cooking.

'Yeah, yeah actually, I have,' she said, distracted, but evidently a little impressed with herself, 'and the apartment's still here.' She finished, shrugging her shoulders and smiling again.

'Why?' Ross asked. He relaxed himself on the couch, kicking off the wet shoes.

'Well..., you know. I just wanted to say thank you.' Rachel said smoothly, pursing her lips.

'For what?'

'This! You and me... room-mates again,' she nodded. Ross resigned to the fact that it would probably never be anything more. 'I have nowhere else to go really. Anyway, aren't you hungry?' she asked, prodding him with her elbow. She didn't give him time to thank her.

'Yeah, I guess,' Ross lied half heartedly. He didn't really want to eat right now. Truth was, he didn't really want to be near Rachel either. Since they decided to end it, Rachel had dated four people, and him only one. The one who he'd had a date with today. The one who hadn't turned up.'What did you cook?'

'Stir fry,' Rachel said as she pranced back to the kitchen.

Ross smiled to himself. 'And how much did Monica cook?'

'What's that supposed to mean?' Rachel said in mock anguish, peering round the wood of the door frame. 'Just the noodles,' she laughed, instantly replacing the frown with a wide grin. Ross gave a small chuckle, too. As upset as he was, he didn't want to dwell on being stood up. Just the meal that Rachel went to the lengths of preparing, and the type of cosy evening that only thunder tended to bring, despite the niggle of contempt that he felt towards her.

Rachel glided back in with two plates of the stir fry she made. She put them on the coffee table and went back in the kitchen. The warm, oriental smell didn't appeal to him much; all he could think about was his date. Again, his mood started to gradually worsen. It just didn't seem fair, at all. How many times had Joey been stood up? What about Chandler, or Rachel? Too few to count, Ross bet.

His eyes slipped over the clock. Twenty five to ten... it was far too late to eat anything. Bad for your digestive system, he thought. Maybe that's why he'd had such little luck? Was he too fussy? Too nerdy? He didn't see how. Surely everyone had something they were passionate about. Ross could think of a few examples: there was Phoebe and her strong sense of morals; Monica and her cleanliness and cooking; Joey, and his acting. His just happened to be something that people didn't really know, like, or care about. Perhaps he was just thinking this over way too much. He decided to try and forget about it.

Cutlery was presented in front of his face. Ross blinked, and took them once he realised it was for his stir fry. 'Thanks,' he murmered.

'Ross? Ross, are you okay? You seem pretty out of it,' Rachel commented, already munching through her meal.

'Yeah... I'm alright.' Ross said, as he picked up his plate.

'No, no honey, you're not. What's up? Was it your date?'

Ross shook his head unconvincingly, pushing the food around the plate with his fork. 'No, it's not that. I guess I'm just a bit down..., maybe it's the weather.' He said, looking out the window. He wouldn't have known it was raining if it wasn't highlighted in orange by the streetlamps. The thunder had stopped, and the rain fell straight down, almost languidly. It was like not even the wind could be bothered.

'Ross, please tell me what's wrong.' Rachel said. 'It's nothing! I'm fine,' Ross protested, chewing on baby sweetcorn.

'I wouldn't say you could tell me _anything_, but, - '

Ross put down his plate. She broke off mid-sentence and the small grin quickly faded. He didn't want to tell her. He just wanted to forget about it. Saying it aloud would probably make it sound pathetic, anyway.

'Fine. Ross, if you don't want to tell me,' Rachel said, finishing off her last mouthful, 'then I don't want to know.' She got up, and walked calmly into the kitchen. He heard her sweats rubbing together, and the soft clatter of a plate hitting the bottom of the washing up basin. He pulled his fingers through his wet hair.

Rachel walked back into the living room and stood in front of him, evidently in a last ditch attempt to prise whatever was bothering Ross from him.

'Please?' She asked simply.

'I got stood up,' he said, avoiding eye contact.

'Oh, Ross! Ross, why didn't you tell me...? That's not 'nothing'...!' Rachel said, concerned. She sat down on the couch next to him and put her arm around his shoulders.

'No – no, Rachel,' Ross argued, shoving her off with his shoulder.

'Come here - I'm going to hug you anyway...,' she said in a dumb voice. She kissed him on the forehead. 'Rachel!' Ross said, getting grumpy.

'Oh, fine. I'll stop,' she giggled. Ross sent her a sharp look. Her expression changed to one of earnest. 'Ross, no amount of staring is going to make me not care about you. Do you expect me not to worry or care about you?' She asked.

Ross softened up. 'No,' he said meekly. 'I'm sorry.'

'It's okay..., but why didn't you tell me? This happens to all of us, all the time. Don't worry about it, Ross.' She consoled.

'Really? I didn't know you'd ever been stood up,' Ross asked. Admittedly, she had made him feel a little better this evening.

'Well, not me exactly - ' she began to joke, before seeing Ross' face turn sour. 'Yes. Of course, me. Quite a lot. Way more than I'd like to admit.' She said with chagrin.

'It's really nice you feel you can tell me that, Rachel.' Ross remarked, a small smile on his face now.

'It's fine, honestly. She nodded in reply. 'I tell you what...' she said, getting up off the couch and disappearing into the kitchen. 'I was saving this for thanksgiving, but this is probably a much more...' she strained, reaching for something evidently; 'suiting occasion.'

She walked swiftly back in with two glasses in one hand and a bottle of a sherry of some sort. She poured two shallow glassfuls and handed one to him, sitting back on the sofa.

'To great friends,' Ross toasted, enamoured by her ability to cheer him up like she had.

'And to being stood up!' Rachel finished with a cheeky smile.

'And to being stood up,' Ross repeated gratefully.

They both drank.

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**NB: **_Rate and review! I know it's a bit short, but there're definitely more chapters up soon. If you like it, be patient, please don't pester for an update. :-}_

_Thanks for reading, hope you enjoyed it._

_~Nieveus_


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